Remember to shout,
and when you’re finished with your beer
throw it at something, anything,
and throw it kind of hard.
Always keep the cell phone charged,
911 should be on your speed dial.
Have a good idea what each pill is,
that way you can tell the paramedics
when they get there.
But in the mean time,
recall the fond memories.

Like when she made you
wear those red, lacy, women’s panties
and strut around the room.
and when it was her turn
she was to embarrassed to put them on.

Like the time she got so drunk
she threw up on that guy
at the Rockies game.

Like the time you two went roller skating
and she pushed you over
and you hurt your finger really bad.

Tell the paramedics that after the pills
she fell and hit her head.
That will explain the puddle of blood.
Also mention she was bleeding from her nose.
You two did snort
those last four pills.
That’s when her eyes rolled back,
and she just fell.
Shout out that it looks like someone
shot a rabid animal
while you look at the limp body,
foaming mouth,
and all that blood.
Just keep thinking about the good times.

Like right after Peter died
and it got really fun.
She got all that ecstasy from some guy
in Boulder. You guys were high
for like three weeks.
You wore the same jeans
the whole time, your family
worried about you.
It never seemed to you
like she had a family.

Remember when she hit
that fire hydrant in Evergreen?
Water would have sprayed out
like in the movies
if winter hadn’t frozen it.

Then there was that time
in the library bathroom.
She knew you had a new girlfriend,
but she said she had some coke,
and you could fuck her from behind.

When you’re riding
in the ambulance with her
remember how high you are.
You should promise yourself
this is the last time,
and be serious this time.
Tomorrow when you still haven’t slept
and your whole body feels shaky
and terrible and empty
remember your promise,
and when the Doctor tells you she’s OK
and you can see her,
go in and see her, hug her,
and tell her goodbye.

About Pineapple

He tried to call himself, "Malibu." But, you know the rules - you don't get to pick your own nickname. The word "pineapple" came to mind. Sorta tropical, spikey & rough, sweet on the inside. And so a nickname was born.
"Bike mechanic, poet, sage, former collegiate hockey star. Ok, maybe not a star." (This should really be updated. He works for New Belguim now.) "i am full time bicycle mechanic, and all around nice guy. like to ride bikes, but not very far. like poetry, candle-light dinners, and short walks on the beach. i don't like getting hassled, and i don't like capitalization." Fort Collins, Colorado, USA